


Rumor Has It

by Anony_Moouse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen, Louis needs to be more careful about what he reads, Strong Language, supposed character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:59:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anony_Moouse/pseuds/Anony_Moouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the very start of this whole band thing, Louis set up an alert on his phone to scour news sites for mentions of his band and his band mates. This was great idea. Except when it really, really wasn't.<br/>OR<br/>In which Louis reads too much into a rumor, Zayn is supposed to be the level-headed one, and Liam really needs to learn to charge his phone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rumor Has It

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Sorry to barge into your fandom. This officially my first fanfiction under the One Direction umbrella, though I have been lurking in the fandom for almost a year now, and have written for other shows.  
> This was inspired by an interview in which Louis said the worst thing he has ever read about his band is rumours that they have been hurt. I swear the interview existed; I just can't find it.  
> As I said, this is my first fiction here. All mistakes are entirely my own. All comments and criticisms are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!  
> Cheer!

It was in the very beginning that Louis set up an alert on his phone to scour news sites for mentions of his band and his band mates. It was very soon after the beginning that Louis found out it was a fucking stupid idea. He had no idea how sites claiming to relay current events got away with publishing outright lies. Was fact checking no longer a thing?

However, for all the lies and rumors and bullshit, Louis had found some comedic gold, like the headline proclaiming Niall to be in rehab for a hotdog addiction, or that Zayn had been arrested for graffiti-ing the Mona Lisa. As the oldest and wisest member of the band, Louis knew it was his responsibility to find this valuable information and share it with his band. Their protests were obviously a front, hiding their true enthusiasm. Louis knew this to be true.

So, despite the less than groundbreaking nature of the stories found, Louis had never taken the alert off his phone. On long nights on the bus or hours waiting in venues, it was easy to scroll through the list, skimming for the more radical headlines to share with his boys. And, Louis was man enough to admit (to himself. The others didn’t need to know, ok?), during the few breaks their schedule allowed, it was nice to know what the others were up to. And so, the alert stayed on.

 

* * *

 

Man U was winning, the pizza was going to arrive in ten minutes and Louis had nowhere to be for the next three days; life was good. He loved his boys and his job and the fans and all, but sprawled out on his couch wearing nothing but a ratty pair of joggers, Louis couldn’t help but think this was the life.

“Fucking idiot, Ref!” He yelled as the referee flashed a yellow card at one of his players. He halfheartedly threw one of his slippers at the screen before curling back up on the couch with a grumbling sigh. Now his slipper-less foot was cold. Abusing the refs through the TV screen was not nearly as entertaining without Harry sitting next to him, supportive but utterly appalled.

The screen switched to commercials and Louis stared raptly at the Mercedes Benz zooming around the desert. He tore his eyes away and grabbed his phone; Niall would die laughing if Louis went and bought another car for the few days he actually has to drive it. The joy of ownership would hardly be worth the mocking. Louis knew his place; he was the mocker, not the mockee.

He scrolled through his phone, mind half on the text and half on the TV. Time  on the road had conditioned him to split his attention, though usually that was to keep an ear out for bandmates trying to sneak up on him.

He scrolled by it at first, the headline not really making sense. It took a moment for the words to register; Louis almost dropped his phone as his fingers slipped in his haste to scroll back to the link. He bit his lip, but the sharp sting didn’t change the glaring words.

BREAKING NEWS! It said. ONE DIRECTION’S LIAM PAYNE KILLED IN FIERY CAR CRASH!

Louis stared at the title for a moment, finger motionless over the link. He licked his lips with a suddenly dry tongue, 

There was not much in the way of an article; 

_BREAKING NEWS! At 2pm this afternoon, Liam Payne of One Direction fame was involved in a devastating traffic accident on the A40 outside of London; sources say the boybander died on the scene. More details to follow._  

The article was vague enough to be entirely discounted, the lack of details almost making Louis’ chest loosen. But, before he could close the tab and forget it, he noticed there were pictures.

Louis knew what Liam’s car looked like, even had photos saved on his phone from the barrage Liam sent when he first bought the thing. Louis knew enough that he could tell- even from the grainy picture- that the twisted, broken car surrounded by yellow tape looked a lot like Liam’s.

Louis switched to his photo folder, and opened a snap of Liam sprawled loose limbed over the hood of his car, his grin so wide his eyes had entirely disappeared. Louis loved the photo, had from the moment Liam sent it but now it was making his stomach roll. The car definitely seemed to match the one from the article.

Louis dropped his phone onto the couch, and ran his fingers roughly through his hair. It was one stupid article. And the site – CelebrityConnection? Who the fuck were they? Louis was in show business; he knew a lot of new sites and if he hadn’t heard of it, chances are it was not worth knowing.

Louis leaned back against his couch, and dug his palms into his eye sockets until he was seeing stars instead of the pictures of mangled metal. Why people did this, he didn’t know. Too many times, Louis had read articles about his boys being hurt or dead, and it never failed to make his stomach roll. It only seemed to happen on break, when they were apart and he couldn’t leap jump into their beds or throw cereal at their faces, just to wallow in their brilliant aliveness. But the articles were always fake. And this one was fake, Louis was sure. No one had called him all day – management would have said something by now. For god’s sake, Karen would have called by now. Obviously, nothing had actually happened.

With that thought in mind, he dropped his hands from his face, and scoured the couch for his abandoned phone. With quick fingers, he copied the article link, and pasted it in a text to Liam. He typed out a message, _HAHHAHA- I guess we better start looking for a replacement Payno!_ , and hit send. He carefully placed the phone on his coffee table and leaned back into the couch. Liam would think the whole thing was hilarious; he always did. Liam would text back, and Louis would get back to his lazy night.

The game came back on in a blare of music and Louis stared intently at the screen, forcing all his attention on the announcer’s overly enthusiastic voice. It took him five minutes to admit he wasn’t doing well. The movement of the players on the screen was a blur; and when the other team scored a goal, Louis found he could barely muster a halfhearted curse.

As Louis glanced down at his phone for the tenth time, he told himself he wasn’t waiting for Liam to text back, because Louis knew Liam might not reply any time soon. Break time was precious, and they tended to avoid each other to some extent, if only for sheer self-preservation. Liam was busy with life and drinking and stuff. He wasn’t ignoring Louis; he was just otherwise occupied.

Louis was not going to sit there and stare at his phone until Liam replied. He shoved himself off the couch and stalked up to the TV, turning it off with violent and vaguely satisfying jab. He had been looking forward to this game all day, and Liam had fucking ruined it. Louis stamped into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Liam was going to have to take him to an actual game to make up for this insult. And if he didn’t text back soon, it was going to be two games. Louis believed in fair play.

But Louis’ phone remained silent. He stared at it, considering as he sipped his water. He wasn’t going to text Liam again; not yet. But he couldn’t do nothing. He grabbed his IPad off the counter and tapped the Internet icon before he could talk himself out of it. A quick search revealed that three days ago, Liam had been shopping. Louis’ lips turned up in a small smirk at the shots of Liam on the sidewalk in a snapback, saggy jeans and a hoodie. He as proud of his boys; multimillionaires the lot of them, and they all managed to dress like hung-over frat boys.

Louis clicked through most of the gossip and paparazzi sites he knew of, wincing in sympathy at some of the truly invasive shots proudly displayed over garish headlines. But none of Liam. Even Twitter was silent; no one had seen him since his shopping trip. Even as Louis refreshed his twitter page, he could see that he wasn’t the only one to have read the article. Fans were tweeting each other, looking for confirmation. But no one was refuting it. His inbox pinged. Louis winced at the messages asking him to confirm Liam’s status. 

Louis placed his IPad carefully back on the counter, forcing his movements to stay slow and measured though his first impulse was to throw it down, stamp his foot and scream a little. Obviously, technology should be avoided for the moment.

He grabbed his water glass and walked to the sink.

Fact: Liam was shopping three days ago.

Fact: Liam hadn’t been seen since.

Fact: Liam wasn’t answering his phone.

Louis shook his head, and glanced down. He drew in a sharp breath and took a large step away from his sink, staring at horror at his soapy hands. He had been so preoccupied with thoughts of Liam, he had accidently started washing his dishes. Louis hated washing dishes. Hated it more than he hated laundry, and laundry fucking sucked. That was why he was friends with Liam and Harry. Louis drew a deep breath in through tightly pursed lips, and dried his hands roughly against his sweat pants. First, Liam ignored him and then he made Louis wash his dishes. Louis was starting to get very angry with Liam.

With a final glare at the clean, glistening water glass, Louis stomped back into the living room. He grabbed his stubbornly silent phone, unlocked it and sent Liam another message, comprised entirely of exclamation and question marks. He paused. Harry was off in LA again, being a social butterfly with anyone not involved in One Direction, making him utterly useless – the tosser. Niall was back in Ireland, and had told Louis yesterday of his plans to get spectacularly drunk tonight, making his input most likely hilarious but ultimately useless. That left only one option. Louis scrolled quickly through his contacts. Chances were Liam would call before Zayn ever replied, but Louis had to try because doing nothing was driving him insane. Louis pulled up Zayn’s number, and quickly typed,

_I kno ur an antisocial dick, and ignoring ur phone but I need to know when you last talked to Liam._

Louis slumped back onto his couch cushions, and threw his arm over his face, taking some solace in the drama of the action. How was this his life, that Friday nights were spent debunking death notices. His phone buzzed. Louis jumped at the shock of the noise, his phone almost slipping from his hand. His fingers danced quickly to steady the damned thing, and he unlocked it. He blinked at the screen, uncomprehending. Zayn had replied in under one minute.

_Ur a jerk. Havnt talked to Li in a few days tho. You hear about the car crash thing?_

Louis smiled tightly, even as the band in his chest loosed a little. Zayn was on the case with him. Liam would not be able to avoid the both of them.

  _Ya, stupid rite? I texted Liam about it, haven’t heard back_  

Zayn’s reply was quick again; _I texted him too, no reply. Didn’t answer his phone either._

And. Well. That was not right. It was one thing for Liam to ignore Louis. But contact from Zayn during break was a rare and wondrous thing – no one was stupid enough to ignore that. And Liam worshipped the ground Zayn walked on. Even if Liam was eating, or drunk or shagging someone, he would have replied to Zayn.

Whatever calm Louis had gathered from Zayn’s initial reply was gone. He switched apps quickly and dialed Liam’s number by heart. He held his breathe as the call connected. And went straight to voice mail. And that was also not good, Louis thought a little hysterically. Liam was either ignoring him, (which not likely. Louis was not one to overstate his importance, and he and Liam were firmly in the ‘answer on the second ring’ stage of their friendship) or his phone is off. And Liam’s phone was never off.

Louis dialed Liam again, and cursed loudly at Liam’s voicemail. He didn’t bother leaving a message; he called Zayn.

“There are three more articles about it,” Zayn answered on the first ring, and didn’t bother with a greeting. “All dodgy sources though. Nothing really on twitter still.” Louis nodded his head slowly.

“I am impressed by your research skills, Malik.” Zayn snorted gently, and Louis grinned a little at the touch of normalcy. Louis could hear the quiet click of Zayn’s fingers on his computer keys. It was nice having Zayn’s steady, if only auditory presence. Of all of them, Zayn tended to be the most level headed, and he would keep Louis calm through all this silliness…

“I can be in London by morning.” Or, maybe not.

Louis pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it, his face wrinkling in disgust. He shook the phone violently before slamming it against his ear again, groaning at the absolute uselessness of phone conversations.

“Mate,” he drawled, “You are in fucking West Yorkshire. You won’t get here for hours. Just. Just hold tight. I, the one in actual London, will go to Liam’s and yell at him for a bit, k?” Zayn was silent for a moment. Louis got it, he did. Sitting around with nothing to do but wait for someone else to get answers? That was a little bit like hell. But Louis was trying to use logic here.

“Fine.’ Zayn said eventually, ‘Just. Let me know what’s going on, ok?”

“Promise.”

 

* * *

 

Its almost midnight and Liam knew he should probably move, but his couch was just too comfortable. His beer was warm, but he really didn’t care to find the energy to walk to the kitchen for another. His fingers itched almost unconsciously towards the plate on the floor, but found nothing but crumbs. Brow furrowed, Liam glanced over the edge of the couch, and pouted. All his nachos were gone; Liam groaned a little at the realization. He knew he should have made a half plate. It was muscle memory now to make more food than he really wanted. On the bus, his boys would have devoured the whole plate in two minutes, and would have side eyed him until he made more. Liam kicked the empty plate until it was half under his couch. He would have to add another mile to his morning run to make up for that one.

Liam lifted his arms over his head, and grumbled as he stretched his limbs to their furthest length, toes pointed and fingers splayed. He had almost forgotten what lazy days felt like. Even his phone, sitting on top of a discarded hoodie by the side of the couch, was lazy; it hadn’t made a sound in the last few hours.

Liam knew himself well enough to know that by tomorrow, he would be stir crazy and ready to do anything to get out of the house. But it had been so long since he had a night to just relax. He settled back into his hallow on the couch and picked up the controller. Maybe one for round of Call of Duty.

Liam was man enough to admit that, when someone started pounding on his front door, he let out a small squeak and threw his controller to the ground. His eyes shot to the door, heart pounding at the sudden intrusion into his quiet night. A quick glance at the wall clock showed it to be 11:30. Casual visitors did not show up at one’s house that late.

Liam twisted his body, rolled off the couch and landed softly on his hands and knees. He pushed himself into a crouched position, and was about to ease his way towards to door when it flew open. Liam fell back against his couch, ready to reach for his phone when Louis stalked into his house, his ring of spare keys jingling on his fingers. Liam relaxed back onto the floor, a smile coming automatically turning the corners of his lips.

“Louis!” He said happily, throwing a hand up in greeting. He had no idea Louis was going to drop by, but as far as break-ins went, Liam could hardly imagine a better one. He knew he should have saved some of those nachos. “Come in, man!” Liam scrambled to his feet, gesturing widely to his couch. But Louis stood in the entranceway, staring unblinking at Liam. Liam felt his smile dim a little. He narrowed his eyes and took a step towards Louis, studying him a little closer. Louis’ hands were clenched at his sides. In fact, his entire body seemed clenched, his jaw painfully tight and his chest heaving as though he had run there. Liam felt a sudden spike of worry.

“What’s going on, Louis?” He asked, walked quickly up to him. And stumbled back just as fast, hand cupped automatically to his suddenly aching jaw. Liam stared at Louis in shock, eyes darting from Louis’ still emotionless face to the fist that had just socked him in the jaw.

“The hell, Tommo?” Liam asked, gently massaging his sore face. Granted, it hadn’t been a hard punch; Mark did worse in the gym almost on a daily basis. But still. Louis had just punched him.

“Your phone, Payne.” Louis growled, “Ever heard of it? Maybe you could try answering it for once.” Louis spoke quietly and slowly, which Liam knew to be signs of an impending explosion. But he was still confused. What did his phone have to do with a punch in the face?

“My phone is right there.” Liam gestured blindly to the couch, not yet ready to take his eyes off of Louis, “It hasn’t gone off all night.” Louis glared at him, and stalked towards the couch. Liam skipped quickly to the side, not willing to get run over. Louis grabbed Liam’s phone off the floor and glared hotly at Liam one more time before he started to press buttons on Liam’s phone. Or tried to. Liam watched as Louis pressed the home button five times in rapid succession before brandishing it at Liam as though it were some sort of damning evidence.

“Because its dead. Dead, Liam! Charging these things actually helps.” Liam let his hand fall from his still aching jaw, the first fissures of annoyance beginning to take root.

“I am sorry to have inconvenienced you Louis.” He drawled, his apology deliberately mocking, one of the few sure fire ways to get a reaction from Louis. Which, Liam thought as he took an instinctive step back from Louis’ dangerously flaring eyes, was probably not the best course of action when Louis was already rather pissed at him.

Wait. Liam shook his head as he backtracked through all that had happened in the past minute. Louis had been trying to contact him, and had driven all the way here in the middle of the night when he had been unable to do so. Liam swallowed thickly as worry began to bubble in his chest. “Louis, what is going on? Is everyone ok?” If his phone had died, and something had happened… Louis gave a low growl.

“How would you know? Your phone is dead!” Liam wasn’t annoyed anymore, he was scared. Something must have shown in his face. Louis paused his diatribe and rolled his eyes, his entire head echoing the movement. Liam opened his mouth, a hundred questions on his tongue but Louis cut him off his a decisive point.

“Shut up. You get to be the one waiting now.” Liam figured the best course of action would be inaction and he watched quietly as Louis muttered almost silently to himself, flipping through his phone with violent jabs. He must have found what he was looking for, as he looked quickly away from the screen and thrust the phone towards Liam. Liam took the phone, cradling it delicately in his hand. He glanced at Louis, hoping for some signal or sign, but Louis was glaring at the phone as though it too had personally offended him. Liam gulped, and with a deep breath looked at the screen. And blinked. And looked again.

ONE DIRECTION’S LIAM PAYNE KILLED IN CAR ACCIDENT. Which, no. He hadn’t. Not that he knew of.

“I was in… a car accident?” He asked slowly, glancing up at Louis in hopes that some of this would start making sense.

“Apparently fucking not!” Louis exploded, punctuating his statement with a step forward, and arms thrown in the air. “Not that any one else knew that, considering you didn’t deign to talk to anyone!”

“I’m sorry!” Liam said, but the words only seemed to incense Louis more.

“You’re sorry. You’re sorry?” Louis mocked, his voice growing louder with each word, “Well, I’m sorry you seem to have forgotten what century we live in, that we have these brilliant things for communication, if only you plug it in to the sodding wall, you bloody wanker!” The last words were yelled, their echoes reverberating against the walls. The ensuing quiet felt awkward. Liam’s stomach was twisted painfully. He hadn’t meant to ignore Louis; he would never, ever do such a thing. But he had. Louis released a deep sigh, his hunched shoulders loosening and dropping. He scrapped a hand across his face.

“Just pick up your fucking phone next time, Payno.” He said quietly. Liam nodded frantically, hair flopping against his forehead with the movement.

“Ok.” Liam said cautiously. Louis opened his mouth as though to continue his diatribe, but closed it with a decided snap. His eyes skittered across the living room, landing precisely on the half hidden plate under Liam’s couch.

“You made nachos and didn’t save me any?!” He cried, somehow sounding just as scandalized at the lack of nachos as he had at Liam’s lack of communication.

Liam opened his mouth to protest – obviously, he had no idea Louis was coming over. But the movement pulled at his slightly sore cheek. Louis was not above hitting the same spot twice. Liam decided some things weren’t worth fighting over, and clicked his mouth shut.

“I will make you some now.” He said mildly, and turned to walk into the kitchen. If Louis wanted to be upset, Liam would let him calm down a little before returning the punch.

He got the chips out of the cupboard, and the cheese from the fridge. He listened carefully, but there was no noise from the living room.

He was opening his last jar of olives arms shot suddenly under his elbows and twined tightly around his waist.

“Don’t let your phone die again, ok?” Liam could feel the movement of Louis’ lips, pressed tightly against his back. He leaned back into the hug, a smile tugging on his lips.

“I didn’t mean to do it, Lou.” He murmured, laying his own hands over Louis’.

“Well, you should mean to never do it again.” Louis grumbled. Liam sighed and pulled against Louis’ hands. He tugged until he could pry the arms from around his waist, ignoring Louis’ whine of indignant protest. Liam turned quickly before the whine turned into a physical objection, and wrapped his arms tightly around Louis’ shoulders. Liam felt a shudder go through Louis’ body, before he leaned into Liam, Louis’ hands scrambling across Liam’s back before clamping tightly on Liam’s shirt. Holding him close, Liam could feel the rapid staccato of Louis’ breath, feel the tiny tremors in his arms. He pulled Louis closer still, and vowed to buy three phone chargers tomorrow. 

“Ok.” He promised, resting his chin on Louis’ head.

The nachos could probably wait. Some things were more important.

**Author's Note:**

> So? So? Anyone make it this far? I hope so!  
> Last comment - if anyone enjoyed this, and happens to know any willing beta readers, I am almost finished an OT5 Captain America!AU, and I am not sure any of it makes sense. Help would be greatly appreciated!  
> Cheers,  
> Anony-Moouse.


End file.
